Tag Archives: husband lectures

I discovered a new challenge with infrequent posts. I enjoy writing in the moment as I often start a post as a way to think through a topic or experience. It’s very cathartic and also probably why I tend to ramble. It reflects the many thoughts that race through my head. The problem is, things that are “post-worthy” are often long since resolved by the time I sit down to write. I feel unmotivated to write about it.

There are a couple of things I want to share. From a bit of a “relationship problem” we had that involved Chelsea, Jaime, and the three of us. The short of it is, it is best not to keep secrets! Maybe I will write about that next post. It’s old news to me and long since reconciled.

Oh, I could write about Kim, TJ, and their kids visiting T & E’s farm and their partaking in the nudism. Culture shock for them, and some interesting reactions.

Or, there’s this. I could write about a spanking.

Relationship stuff, family meets nudism, or a spanking?

Why do I even ask? I know what you pervs want. Spanking it is.

THE TRANSGRESSIONThis happened about a month ago. Not that I haven’t received any punishments since then. I felt this one was more blog-worthy as it was a bit different.

I was grocery shopping and Mike texted me to get “one large tomato where one slice can cover most of the bread, not those Romas, and get this too...” and he attached a picture of this.

I texted back that I would do so. I was just getting ready to check out so I quickly went to pick up those items. I didn’t want to mess with the plastic produce bags and pick out one tomato, so I grabbed a pre-packaged bag of 4. They were the campari type… decent size, perhaps a tad smaller than a typical plum. I then went to the condiment aisle and grabbed the first jar of bread & butter chip pickles and that was that.

When I got home and Mike inspected the haul, he said in his lecture voice, “How come you didn’t follow my directions?”

I explained that these were the larger tomatoes, just not the really large ones.

“Did I ask you for medium-sized tomato?”

“No, Sir. You asked for a large one.” I knew I was in for a spanking.

THE LECTURE
He questioned why I felt it necessary to get a pack of 4 medium-sized ones when he asked for one large one. I didn’t have a good answer.

“I thought…” and he interrupted.

“So, now you’re thinking about what I might want in lieu of doing what I explicitly said I want.”

He added, “And the pickles? Were they out of the brand I told you to get?”

“No, Sir. I didn’t know you wanted that exact brand. I just thought you…” And again he interrupted.

“Again with the thinking instead of the doing. My instructions were clear and unambiguous. If you ever need to deviate from instructions you know you are to inform me right away. You didn’t even pay attention enough to know that you weren’t following my directions….”

And the lecture continued. As it did I kept trying to deny myself the warm tingles that were aching for my attention. There was no denying the wetness building between my legs. It was difficult to concentrate on his words. My mind kept trying to push the sexual energy aside. I typically don’t like mixing my discipline with sex, but ever since we started with the stern lectures, his words ignite something in me.

My mind was screaming, “Please, just spank me now, spank me now.” I don’t want the sexual energy to get any stronger and know a spanking will break the erotic spell of his lectures. I bit my lip as the lecture continued and my heart raced faster.

“You think my wife would….” and he continued admonishing me for disregarding his request.

Those words always sting. When he refers to me in a third-party way such as “my wife.” I always feel like saying, “Yes, your wife would and your wife does. She does! She does so many things for you….”

It’s those words that bring tears to my eyes. So now I am fighting the tears and fighting the sexual energy, hoping my wetness doesn’t show itself to him. I have this thing that if he sees me turned on it will betray the meaning I want for my discipline. And while fighting the tears, the sexual energy, and the worry of betraying my DD, I also am dealing with the emotions of disappointing myself and him for being in a hurry and not thinking clearly in the store.

THE SPANKINGFinally! He tells me to put my elbows on the counter and stick my butt out. He pulls the wooden spoon out of the kitchen drawer and spanks me. (I am already naked as I disrobed after I brought the groceries in as is usual). The sting helps release all the emotions that were building up in me. I cry as he spanks me over and over at a rapid pace.

He stops and lectures me some more, again generating the sexual response I get from his scoldings. And while that response is not new, this time it is exceptionally strong. I sense my body is betraying me and ignoring my attempts to squash the sexual pressure building up in me. Before I can focus further he tells me to grab my ankles. I comply and he spanks me again and again.

I then did something I rarely do, and only do when I am feeling the most humbled. I started saying, “I’m Sorry, I’m Sorry!” It’s our typical protocol that I don’t apologize like this as my remorse is assumed and my “redemption” is via the discipline and not an apology. But sometimes the emotions take over and I blurt it out. It’s okay when I do, it’s not like a rule or anything. But it is a sign that I’m experiencing a major “release.” And this one is major, with lots of tears to go with it.

He gives me three or four wacks on the palms with the wooden spoon. He then lectures me some more. As his razor-sharp words hit me hard, the sexual boiler in my body is ready to burst. This time, instead of “I’m sorry,” I feel different words about ready to explode from my mouth. My lips come together and a bite my lower lip, pushing some air out between my lips as I try to hold back.

I tell myself in my head, “This is not what my discipline is about!” But Mike keeps talking and I am at my breaking point. I clench my lips to hold back the words, but I can’t keep it in any longer.

“Fff…” and before I could complete the word, Mike says,

“Now, go stand in the corner until I call for you and while you do, this stays in your mouth.” And he takes a tomato and sticks it in my mouth.”

He eventually calls for me and corner time is over. All is forgiven. The punishment is over.

POST PUNISHMENT VIBE
I had this strange feeling. It was akin to a post-orgasmic feeling, but I hadn’t actually orgasmed. And I wasn’t feeling any orgasmic aftershocks I often feel. It was like a no orgasm orgasm, if that even makes sense. And unlike after an actual orgasm, I could sense that the embers from the sexual energy were still burning. Yeah, I am still a bit turned on.

My butt is sore from the strikes and my palms still tingle as the whacks on my palms were few but powerful. It’s also clear to me my pussy still aches from his words. About a half-hour after the punishment has ended I realize this ache is not subsiding. I could initiate sex with Mike, but I have this feeling that I want to be in full control of the pace of things. That is, I want this done fast and furious and with my luck, Mike will be in an Energizer Bunny mode. Nope, can’t risk that.

Fortunately, I haven’t masturbated yet that week and I am required to do so at least three times a week. I ask Mike for permission to masturbate and he grants it with the caveat that I do it right there. (Boy, it sure is nice to have an empty nest!)

We are in the living room, so I masturbate something fierce and orgasm within minutes.

REFLECTION (What’s a Jenny post without some reflection).

Not only would the pre-DD Jenny be appalled by this particular punishment, but even the Jenny of a year or two ago would have had major issues with that discipline. But it is exactly the type of discipline and lecture I love and have asked for.

As mean and abusive as that may make Mike sound, that punishment, like every punishment, is about what he feels I want and need based on the wants and needs I have expressed to him. I know when he is saying those words it is part of a play. It’s part of a role that he has agreed to take on. It doesn’t reflect how much he values me as I know he values me tremendously. It reflects his desire to be the person I want him to be at that moment.

I want him to be stern, and yes, even mean. I know that is not his nature. Thus, when he lectures me HE is the selfless one, not me. Sounds pretty twisted, I know. But that’s the mindset of a submissive.

Oh, and the words I was about to shout out at the top of my lungs before Mike sent me to the corner? “Fuck me!” Yep.

I was wanting it so badly! And it is not like me. For one, I don’t cuss much. Not that an expletive doesn’t cross my lips now and then (and I’ve been punished when it happens). And the other is I have made it a point not to mix sex with discipline. It’s happened, but it is rare. I accept there are many people who frequently mix the two, including Mike and Kayla. It just isn’t my thing. But I never wanted it so badly as I did during that particular punishment.

His lectures have always turned me on, but something about this one was really amazing. Not sure why. I shared all of this with Mike. His response was that he would be sure NOT to have sex with me following a lecture NOR let me masturbate anytime soon thereafter. “Consider it an extension of the punishment.”

Aha! But we already said, “All is forgiven,” thus my punishment is officially over. I shall appeal to the Odd (The Orgasm Denial Discipline committee, Ima Jillin presiding). Ultimately I lost my appeal but Mike did re-purpose the denial of my release. Instead of it being an extension of the punishment, he said it was to honor my desire to keep discipline separate from sex.